


Honesty

by alynwa



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denny decides to surprise Alan with a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Honestly, Alan, you are such a wet blanket! What is wrong with a party?" Denny was admonishing his husband of almost three years as they headed back to Boston in the back of their limousine. "It's our third anniversary for cripe's sake; a party is the perfect way to celebrate!"

Alan sighed and stared out the window. Dave the chauffeur had just taken the turnoff onto I – 91 to Hartford. They had just spent five days in Manhattan; going to the theater, dining at some of New York's best restaurants and meeting with some of Denny's investment brokers. They had only been on the road home for a little over an hour. _I have a feeling this might be a_ long _ride._

"Denny," Alan began, "I really do not want a party. You and I have spent a glorious week in New York and besides, why throw a party for a three year anniversary? A _one_ year or a _five_ year, okay, but three years isn't much of milestone."

"I disagree," the older man responded as he poured scotch from a cut crystal decanter into two crystal glasses. He handed one to Alan and continued, "This year is a _huge_ milestone. Have you forgotten that you turned 50 this year?"

Alan swallowed some of his liquor and grimaced. "I was _trying_ to, thanks for reminding me."

Denny grunted and smiled. "Well, do you remember that I turned 80 this year?"

"No, you didn't! You're 29 years older than I am, Denny; and that means you turn 80 next January."

"Well," Denny growled, "it sounds a helluva lot better to say that you turned 50 and I turned 80 in the same year. That plus our wedding anniversary is reason for a party. I'm Denny Crane! I can change my birth year if I want!"

"I certainly can't argue with that," Alan responded drolly before he returned his attention to the scenery moving by as Dave merged onto I -84 to Boston. _We're making good time,_ he thought. His eyes wandered in Denny's direction and he caught the man studying him over his drink. "Is there anything I can say to make you drop this party idea?"

"No. Think about it, Alan; we spend almost all of our time together. We haven't even seenCarl and Shirley in four or five _months._ And, when's the last time we had drinks with Katie and Jerry?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Alan replied, "I concede the point. We don't spend a lot of time with our friends, but if I may present a counterargument, _they_ have not seen _us_ either and by that I mean our lives are taking us in different directions. Without Crane Poole and Schmidt in common, we don't see each other as much."

"Denny, I _like_ spending most of my time with you. That is why I haven't started my Legal Aid practice yet; I'm enjoying myself and our marriage. To be honest, I can hardly believe it's almost three years since we said 'I do.'"

"However, you make a valid point: We have not socialized lately and as a proper Boston Brahmin couple, that is unacceptable so, I suggest a compromise. Our anniversary, December 8th is a Saturday this year and I want to enjoy a quiet dinner at home with you. If you agree, then we can have a big end – of – year blowout the following Saturday to celebrate our birthdays, our anniversary and anything else you want to throw into the mix. We can use the occasion to invite all our friends and acquaintances and fulfill all our social obligations _._ What do you say?"

"Okay, we can do that," Denny said, "Sounds like a plan. I've got six weeks to plan our dinner. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything."

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

Denny was on the phone with Shirley a few days later telling her about his plan to have a surprise anniversary party on December 8th for Alan.

"It's going to be great! I've already gotten one of the bands that we used to use for the company Christmas parties and I've got Rodeo and Olympia working with the caterers. He doesn't suspect a _thing!"_

He heard a long exasperated sigh come through the phone. "Denny, I have to tell you: This is not a good idea. Alan is not like you; he doesn't say _no_ when he means _yes._ If he told you he just wants a small, intimate dinner with you on December 8th then that is what he wants. You're making a mistake if you think otherwise."

"Alan is going to be fine with this, Shirley, you'll see. Just tell me you and Carl will come."

"Oh, we'll be there. _Somebody_ has to play referee when the sparks start to fly. It might as well be Carl and me. Denny, I really wish you would reconsider."

Even though she could not see him, Denny waved his hand in the air dismissively. "My mind is made up. This party is happening."

"But, Denny…"

"Shirley, you are wrong and I'm not discussing it further. I'm looking forward to seeing you and Carl on December 8th. I'll talk to you later. Bye," he said curtly before hanging up.

Shirley looked at the receiver in her hand as she shook her head slowly. As she placed it back into the phone's cradle, she noticed Carl standing in the doorway of their den watching her. "Trouble in 'Craneville?'" he asked.

She went to him and placed a small kiss on his lips. "Not yet, but there is going to be." She filled him in on her conversation with Denny and ended by saying, "He is completely convinced that when Alan walks in and sees all of us, he will be swept up into a joyous celebration of life and forget all about not wanting company."

Carl took her hand and led the way to their bedroom. "Are you sure we should go? It sounds like you think it's going to get ugly."

Shirley laughed as she began to unbutton her husband's shirt. "Not without us it's not! There is no way in the world we are missing that party."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since their conversation in the limo weeks earlier, Denny had been planning tonight. At first, the party was going to be in their home, but as the guest list grew ever larger, he decided to book the Oak Room in the Fairmont Copley Plaza and hired a party planner instead. It had taken some wheedling on Denny's part, but he was finally able to convince Alan that he really, really, _really_ wanted to go out tonight.

Alan had finally said, "Alright, Denny, to please you I will do this." From there, it had been comparatively easy to get the younger man to agree to wear a tux. A couple of times, Denny had caught Alan looking quizzically at him, as if he thought something was up, but couldn't _quite_ put his finger on it.

He and Rita Jones, the party planner, had thought about several ways to spring the gala on Alan. At first, Denny just wanted to walk in with Alan and have the guests filter in one small group at a time, but Rita convinced him that Alan would realize he was being set up when every other patron entering the restaurant was someone he knew. So, the plan was now that everyone was supposed to be in the restaurant no later than 7:30 enjoying drinks and hors d'oeuvres until the guests of honor appeared at 8PM. Then after the initial surprise, Denny would make a speech about how happy they've been since getting married. He hoped that Alan would get over his shock quickly so that he could also say a few words, but if he couldn't, the band was instructed to play the song that he and Shirley danced to on their wedding day so that he could correct his mistake by dancing with Alan while Shirley danced with Carl.

Saturday had been hard on Denny. All day long, he had been so excited he could barely contain himself. He was like a big kid with a secret. He had managed to avoid Alan most of the day, but when they started getting ready for dinner, they were in the bedroom at the same time and Alan had noticed that Denny was acting like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"Denny," Alan said as he exited the bathroom after showering and shaving, "You are acting like this is a first date. Why are you so jumpy? What are you not telling me?"

Denny was already dressed in his custom – made tuxedo and was standing admiring himself in the mirror. "I'm just looking forward to my dinner. I've already thought about the steak I want and I can almost taste it."

Alan still didn't look totally convinced. "And that's all?" he asked.

Denny turned to face Alan and placed his right hand over his heart. "That is all," he avowed. Alan smiled and moved to get dressed. He hadn't noticed that Denny's left hand was behind him or he might have suspected Denny had his fingers crossed which of course, he did. For the first time, watching Alan fix his cummerbund and comb his hair, a little voice piped up in his mind saying _Maybe this isn't a good idea, maybe this is too much._ Denny squelched that little nagging voice with sheer force of will. _Everything will be fine. Nothing to worry about, everything will be great._

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

"Hey, Shirley baby! How the hell are ya? Carl, my man, lookin' good! Married life is workin'for ya; maybe I'll try it one day." Before either one of them could respond, Katie reached over and pulled Jerry's cigarette prop out of his mouth; returning him to his usual self. "Ah, ah, I meant it's good to see you both," he managed to stammer out before doing a quick hop and spin.

Carl smiled and shook his hand. "I'm fine, Jerry." He nodded at Jerry's companion. "Katie."

Katie smiled in acknowledgement and then she and Shirley air – kissed in greeting before Katie remarked, "It was so nice of Denny to invite Jerry and me. Let's go to our table. My goodness, there are people here I haven't seen since before your wedding."

 _It's true,_ Shirley thought as she looked around the room. She waved at Paul Lewiston who was seated at a table with Brad and Denise Chase. She frowned at that and continued looking around with a growing sense of dread. She leaned closer to Carl to speak softly into his ear. "Any chance this affair had of being a success is dead in the water. Look around, Carl, who do you see?"

Carl was perplexed at first by his wife's statement, but as he looked, he began to see what she saw; everyone there was someone both Denny and Alan knew, but a lot of the attendees were people that Alan didn't like. Melvin Palmer was sitting at a table toward the back of the room, but he was _there_ along with several other lawyers and jurists that Carl knew were not Alan's favorite people. Sipping his scotch thoughtfully, he said to Shirley, "I think you're right."

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

Dave the chauffeur had the car in front of the house at precisely 7:15PM. Denny and Alan were decked out in their designer tuxedos and ready to go. When Dave held the door open, Denny gestured that Alan enter the car first. He slid in followed quickly by Denny. As Dave shut the door and moved to the driver's side of the car, Alan started to poor scotch for both of them.

"Wait, Alan, I have champagne." He reached into the bar on his side, pulled out two flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon. Deftly uncorking the bottle, he poured the sparkling liquid into the glasses as Alan held them. Putting the bottle down and taking a flute from Alan, he announced, "A toast: To you, Alan. May this night be one that you never forget."

The younger man tapped his glass against Denny's. "I'm sure it will be," he replied.

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

At 7:50PM, Dave pulled in front of the Fairmont Copley Plaza. As the hotel's doorman opened the car door, Denny said to Dave, "I'll call you when we're ready to leave." As he arose from the vehicle, he looked around quickly to see if there were any late – arriving guests. Satisfied not to see anyone, he stepped aside to give Alan room to exit.

"Denny," Alan was saying as they walked through the doors into the lobby heading for the Oak Room, "I have to admit: I'm looking forward to this meal. We can talk about what we want to do on our next vacation. I know I should be thinking of opening my practice next year, but I am having so much fun." He held the door open for Denny to enter the restaurant. "You may think this is crazy, but it's taken me three years to finally feel comfortable enough to tell you…" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that everyone in the place was looking at the two of them and applauding.

Denny clapped him on the shoulder almost knocking him over and said loudly, "Happy belated 50th birthday to you, happy belated 80th birthday to me and happy third anniversary to us! Surprise, Alan! Look who's here!"

Shirley, sitting across the room with Carl, Jerry and Katie, could see the play of emotions across Alan's face. "Oh my God," she whispered, "Carl, I think Alan's in shock and not in a good way. And, worst of all, Denny's being oblivious."

Alan was stunned. He took in the crowd and all he could see were lies and betrayal being rammed downed his throat to the point where he couldn't breathe. He had to have air. Without a word, he turned and walked out, leaving Denny standing there with his mouth open and, for once, speechless.

Katie nudged Jerry, "Go after him!" she said. "Don't let him leave!"

Jerry leapt up and with hands firmly grasping thighs, raced to the entrance, past a dismayed looking Denny and into the lobby. He saw Alan striding quickly through the outer door and caught up with him just as the doorman opened a cab door for him. "Alan, wait!" he called. The look on Alan's face stopped him cold. "Alan?"

"Don't, Jerry. Just…don't. If you want, tell Denny I said 'Enjoy your party.'" Without another word, he got in the cab, slammed the door and left.

Jerry watched the cab pull away and head down the street. Head down, he walked slowly back to the Oak Room. He noted that everyone was in the exact same positions they had been when he chased after Alan. He stopped in front of Denny who stood waiting for him to say something. Instinctively, he reached for the little wooden cigarette in his pants pocket and jabbed it into his mouth. "Sorry, Bub, Alan blew this popsicle stand. He took off in a cab for parts unknown."

While he was speaking, Shirley had walked toward them. "Did he say anything, Jerry?" she asked as she put her arm through one of Denny's and leaned into him to comfort him.

"Yeah, Shirl, he told me to tell Denny to enjoy his party! I don't know what you did, Pal, but you really screwed this up!"

Shirley snatched the cigarette from Jerry's mouth and said, "Don't call me Shirl!" as she jammed it into his jacket pocket. Jerry immediately hopped and then rushed back to his seat and Katie.

Shirley decided to do something about the awkward silence that permeated the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, something came up unexpectedly for Alan, but not to worry; please continue to enjoy yourselves." Denny leaned in to whisper in her ear. She patted his arm and asked the gathering, "Is Rita Jones here?" When the woman walked up, Shirley announced, "This is our Mistress of Ceremonies. She'll make sure the dinner and dancing happen when they are supposed to; hopefully, we'll be back shortly."

Denny managed to compose himself enough to smile at his guests and wave before saying, "Have a good time. Denny Crane!" When he turned around and walked out, only Shirley saw the look of devastation on his face.

As Carl hurried to catch up to his wife and friend, he could hear Melvin Palmer say, "That Alan Shore is one big party – pooper, that's what _he_ is."

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

Alan would have ridden around in the cab all night if he had enough cash on him. Instead, he directed the driver to the Hilton Boston Downtown on Broad Street. Once there, he strode to the Front Desk and checked in. He reached into his wallet for a credit card. The first one he saw was his black American Express card in the name of Alan Shore – Crane. Snorting in disgust, he grabbed the Amex card that was his account alone. "Do you have room service?" he asked. In response to the clerk's affirmative he said, "Please send a bottle of your best scotch and a bucket of ice to my room. Thank you."

Forty – five minutes later, he was sitting, jacket, tie and shoes off, on the bed with his back against the headboard sipping a drink and thinking. _How could he,_ he thought. _I told him I did not want a party tonight and he did it anyway. I was so sure that Denny would never ignore my feelings. And not only does he do exactly that, he compounds it by inviting a bunch of egotistical jerks I don't like! Melvin Palmer, for God's sake! And Paul Lewiston and Judge Hooper! Bullies, both of them! Well, if he's going to start not respecting my wishes…_

Just then, he felt his phone vibrating. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and checked the caller ID. _Denny. You can leave another message because I am not answering._ As he turned off the phone and set it on the end table he thought, _I may never answer again._ He refilled his glass and kept drinking into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Denny heard the phone ringing Monday morning and yelled, "I've got it!" so the staff wouldn't answer. He picked up the receiver and said, "Alan?" and was disappointed to hear Carl's voice. "Oh, it's you, Carl."

Carl harrumphed on the other end. "I'm going to let that slide because I know you're upset. I take it that means you still haven't heard from Alan?"

"No and it's been two nights! I was about to call the Police Commissioner to report him missing when you called."

"For what it's worth, Denny, I'm sure he's okay; he just needs time to cool off."

"He wouldn't need time if I hadn't been such an idiot." He was sitting in the front room and noticed a cab pulling up to the front door. "Carl, I think Alan is coming home now; there's a cab outside. I'll talk to you later." He didn't wait for an answer before hanging up. When he saw Alan, disheveled and still wearing his tuxedo, get out of the car, he rushed to open the front door. "It's freezing outside, you'll catch your death!" They had left their coats in the limo, so Alan had had no coat when he walked out. "How did you stay warm?"

Moving past the older man, Alan replied, "A hotel room and two bottles of scotch kept me warm enough, thank you." He went up the stairs to their bedroom.

Denny followed, albeit at a slower pace. By the time he entered their room, Alan had already stripped his clothing off and gone into the bathroom and shut the door. He scooped the discarded tux off the floor and tossed it in the hamper and then sat on the bed to wait.

He heard the shower stop running and knew Alan would be out shortly, but he didn't really know what he would, or could, say. The sound of Alan's electric razor came through the door followed by the sounds of Alan brushing his teeth. Finally, the water stopped running and Alan exited the bathroom wearing his blue monogrammed robe; the "ASC" partially obscured by the towel he was using to rub his hair dry.

"I bet you feel better now, don't you?" Denny said because; well, because he had to say _something._

Alan glanced at him briefly before grabbing fresh underwear from the dresser drawer and turning his back to dress. "I see," he replied as he removed his robe to pull a white T – shirt over his head, " _now_ you're interested in how I feel." Taking a pair of jeans from the closet, he put them on before sitting on the opposite side of the bed with a pair of socks in his hand. Feeling Denny's eyes on his back, he suddenly whipped around and sat Indian – style on the bed. "You really don't know why I was, and to be honest, still am so pissed at you, do you?"

"Because I threw a big party when you said you just wanted to have dinner with me. I'm sorry, Alan. Shirley _told_ me I was making a mistake, but I didn't listen."

Alan exhaled loudly and allowed his head to hang. "That's partially it," Alan said. "Denny, my…whole life is punctuated by lies and betrayal perpetrated by people I should have been able to trust. It started with my parents and it just went downhill from there. People told me they were my friends and they weren't. People told me they loved me and they didn't. Not really and not enough. And then, I met you. Larger than life, gun – toting, life – loving, impossible to ignore _you._ And, my life changed. Do you remember I started to say something to you just as we walked into the Oak Room?"

Denny thought a moment and then said, "Yes, I do remember. You started to say that after three years, you finally felt comfortable enough to tell me something. And then, we came through the door and that was that."

They sat quietly for a few minutes until Alan began to speak again. "I was about to tell you that when we first became friends, I liked you, but I was afraid to trust you. When you asked me to marry you, I realized that though I trusted you to be my friend, trusting you to be my husband was something else. Marriage meant I couldn't check out anymore; that I was in it for the long haul. I said 'yes' because I hoped it would be alright, but I wasn't completely sure."

"I was about to tell you, Denny, that I totally trusted you, so when I saw all those people, I was crushed to realize you had disregarded my feelings. And, to add insult to injury, I saw people there you know I don't even like. I had to get out of there. I got in that cab and I felt _trapped_ because I don't have my hotel room anymore and even if I did, you could find me. So, I checked into a hotel I've never used before and sat in my room and drank until I was ready to come back and say what I just said." He leaned over to put on his socks.

It was Denny's turn to hang his head as he processed what he had just been told. "Wow," he said, "I can't even blame this debacle on the Mad Cow. I am so sorry. I think I was treating you like my _wife_ instead of my husband." At Alan's confused look he said, "A couple of my exes used to act like they didn't want something when they actually did, so when you said you didn't want an anniversary party, I just took it that you really wanted one. As for the people there who aren't your favorites, I invited them so you could rub their faces in the fact that you're happy. Or at least, you _used_ to be happy. How bad is this, Alan? Have I lost your trust? Please tell me you're back to stay!"

Alan slid across the bed to sit next to Denny and bumped him with his shoulder. "I wasn't planning on leaving, but I was feeling hurt and afraid; hurt that you ignored my feelings and afraid that it might be the start of you letting me down, too. I honestly don't think I can handle any more letdowns, Denny. Now that I know your intentions really were good, I don't feel as badly as I did. You have to remember that I'm damaged goods, Denny. I have a lot of issues and they can manifest in weird ways."

Denny playfully pushed Alan onto his side. "I'll have you know, young man, that you are talking about my husband and he may be a lot of things, but 'damaged goods' is not one of them. Don't say that."

"Okay, Denny."

The older man grunted. "Good. Let me apologize once more; this will not happen again. Let me make this up to you: We will do whatever you want for Christmas and New Year's, no questions asked. But, I have one request."

Alan sat up again. "What is it?" He was astonished to see Denny's eyes start to glisten.

"I have issues, too. They mainly deal with my spouses leaving me, so if I mess up again, and face it, I'm Denny Crane, I can mess up big time; please, Alan, please work it out with me. Don't leave. I was worried sick when you didn't come home or answer your phone." He stuck out his right hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Alan pulled Denny into a heartfelt hug. "Deal," he agreed. When they separated, he asked, "Do you want to keep me company while I eat? I've had nothing for awhile and I'm starving."

"Sure." As they headed to the kitchen, Denny smiled and said, "My mother was right: Honesty _is_ the best policy."


End file.
